


A Tiger's Hero

by lilithduvare



Series: Sweetness and Icing [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkwardness, Boys In Love, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Angst, OtaYuri Week, OtaYuri Week 2017, Romance, Swearing, badass!Otabek, badass!Yuri, cuteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithduvare/pseuds/lilithduvare
Summary: Yuri's visit might have been last minute, but it did not mean Viktor had the right to stand him up at the airport. In Japan. With a horde of fangirls trying to kill him.At least his knight in shining black leather did his job better than his useless cousin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This little story follows everyone's darling Yurio's adventures starting from the point where he first arrives to Narita and meets Otabek. This is not the sequel of Ptichye Moloko but is set in the same universe in the same timeline. This will have some social media posts mixed with the actual story, probably more heavily than PM was. 
> 
> It's also my entry for Otayuri Week.  
> Prompt:  
> DAY ONE (Feb 20):  
> • First times/Confessions (pining, first time dating/kissing/cuddling, love declarations)
> 
> I hope you guys will like it!

Yuri scowled down at his phone, willing his asshole cousin to finally reply. He just got off the plane in Tokyo and he knew he was hovering suspiciously at the baggage claim area, but the thought of passing the gate that lead to the outside world full of people who would recognize him in about two seconds flat made his blood run cold. And no, he wasn’t being full of himself. It was what happened every goddamn time he left L.A. If Viktor fucking bailed on him…

No, he wouldn’t do that. Yes, he was a selfish douchebag and a giant airhead, but he knew about Yuri’s aversion to crowds and people touching him. Strangers touching him. Viktor would never dare leave him to fend for himself. He would be there in the arrivals area with his stupid smile and arms opened for a hug.

Yuri nodded his head decisively, checking his phone one last time. Yes, that was why Viktor wasn’t replying. He was waiting for Yuri outside. With that in mind, he clenched his fingers around his phone and grabbed the handle of his suitcase with his free hand, waling towards the exit. He put on his best glower, eyes narrowed and ready to hurl his things at Viktor the moment he saw him just because.

Except he wasn’t there.

Dread, cold and heavy like lead started filling Yuri’s stomach as he looked around in the busy terminal, seeing all those unfamiliar faces mingling around him, greeting family, friends or rushing towards the automatized glass doors leading to the parking lot and the transfer buses and taxis waiting for passengers who had no one to pick them up.

Like him.

This wasn’t his first trip to Tokyo, he knew what to expect and how to get around. He wasn’t an invalid. Of course not. But Viktor stood him up and Yuri swore to himself that he would kill him for it. He wouldn’t ask questions. Wouldn’t let Viktor to get a word in. Yuri would find him in that precious cowtown of his that he kept rambling about in his posts and beat him to death. Hopefully in front of a huge crowd of people.

Not that it would help him get through the airport without being recognized. He should have put on a wig and some ugly as sin clothes. Something plaid maybe. Anything to pass him off as a moron with zero fashion sense. But he had been so sure that Viktor would come, so he ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that told him to prepare for the worst. And now here he was, standing in the middle of Narita with his tiger print suitcase and cool as hell, but way too recognizable black leather jacket with a tiger on the back without even a baseball cap to hide his face.

He was dead meat.

Gritting his teeth, he kept his head down and silently ordered everyone around him not to look at him. It seemed to work. For all of ten meters. Then someone touched his shoulder out of nowhere and in the next moment there was an ear splitting shriek right next to him, and Yuri could do nothing but flinch back and look straight at the girl screaming her head off.

“Oh my God! You’re Yuri Plisetsky!”

It was like watching a freak accident happening before your eyes, there was no way to look away. His eyes locked with the girls, and then like an avalanche, he was practically buried under a sea of writhing, screaming bodies that were chanting his name and demanding his attention, his time… his everything. It made Yuri want to take shower in sulfuric acid and then burn his skin off.

He felt dirty, used and like he was about to pass out. He tried to push them away, to yank his jacket, his hands, his legs out of the frantic claws of the furling beast surrounding him. It was useless. Yelling and cursing was useless as well, and the security guards were a bunch of shitheads just blowing their whistles as if that would ever help with anything.

Yuri was only seconds away from punching someone in the face and not caring that they were female when out of nowhere a dark figure appeared in front of him and the hyenas fucked off to a manageable distance. Yuri blinked, heart hammering in his throat as he used his suitcase to push himself back onto his feet. Before him stood a man, well, he looked a mix between a man and a boy with his smooth face and douchey hair cut and the dark, intense look in his eyes.

“Are you coming?” the man asked, flat and cool. His voice was smooth and carried easily in the cacophony around them. His hand, extended towards Yuri, looked large and disturbingly inviting, enough that Yuri had to dig his nails into his palm not to reach out and take it. He didn’t know this guy.

“What?! Hell no! You could be some serial killer or whatever!” Yuri growled, or at least he wanted to believe that the croak that left his mouth was a growl.

“My name is Otabek Altin and your cousin sent me to pick you up,” the guy, Otabek Altin, drawled, unmoved. He seemed like nothing could make him lose his cool, and Yuri, despite his best efforts found himself intrigued. “He sends his regrets for not being able to make it, but shooting went longer than expected—”

“Okay, you can stop reciting the bullshit that asshole spoon fed you,” Yuri cut in, having heard more than enough. At least he wasn’t the only one who looked like it pained him to listen to Viktor’s rambles.

Before he could think better of it, Yuri clasped his hand with Altin’s and stared up at him, hard. Someone squealed and it was echoed by other voices that blended into a barely noticeable buzz the moment Yuri’s fingers slid into Altin’s hand. Altin’s skin was warm and dry, safe. Yes, he was still beyond pissed at Viktor but maybe, just maybe this time his cousin had done something useful.

“Coming?”

“Let’s go.”

Beka had admired Yuri Plisetsky since the moment he first saw him at Madam Baranovskaya’s studio practicing his walk. Yuri had been about ten if that and Beka had been painfully shy, hiding behind on of the many of his great-aunt’s mannequins. He remembered watching Yuri’s determined face as he had done his best to keep his spine straight and his head held high. He should have looked ridiculous, but the last thing Beka had wanted to do was laughing.

Now, six years later, he finally had his chance to get closer to the infamous Russian Tiger and up close he was even more stunning. His cut-glass green eyes that had flashed with anger and shame when Yuri first looked at him now seemed to be shining with suppressed curiosity. Especially after Beka had managed to get them out of the airport and on the next train to Tokyo’s downtown in the matter of minutes. Without anyone trying to stop them.

Of course, he wasn’t naive enough to think the internet wouldn’t be full of their faces and outrageous stories about what had happened within a few hours. A part of him dreaded Yuri’s reaction, but another, a much bigger part was interested and smug. Because Yuri accepted his hand. Had chosen to trust him even when he hadn’t needed to. It pushed a small smile onto Beka’s lips and he chanced a look at Yuri seated across from him.

“What.”

“Nothing.” Neither of them turned away, the silence falling between them stilted. “I… I wanted to meet you for a long time.”

“Who are you anyway?” Yuri asked, sounding like a disgruntled cat but Beka could see the red staining his cheeks.

“I’m—”

“Not your name. I’m not a retard I heard it just fine. Who are you to my cousin?”

“I’m Madam Baranovskaya’s assistant,” Beka replied, hoping the name would ring a bell for Yuri. If his expression was anything to go by, it did.

He saw the small wince that ran down Yuri’s shoulders although his face was still set in a sneer, his upper lip curled in distaste. “That hag is still a sadist, I bet,” Yuri muttered darkly.

“You were one of her best students,” Beka offered, turning towards the scenery flashing by. “I used to watch you practice when you were still a student at the Madam’s studio. You were magnificent and so much better than everyone around you. But it was not your talent that grabbed my attention. But the look in your eyes. Your absolute devotion and resolution to be the best.”

“I… T-thanks, I guess,” Yuri said, quiet. He still refused to look at Beka, but his reflection showed his embarrassment, the rose tint of his skin and the tense line of his jaw. It made Beka proud.

He had been the one behind that reaction. His words, his honesty. He was far from adept when it came to social interactions. He was often times too blunt and couldn’t navigate the back stabbing, pretentious world of celebrities to save his life, but he had the feeling Yuri wouldn’t have reacted half as positively to him if he could. Not that it made asking the next question any easier. Still, he had to do it. If for nothing else than himself. To know that he wasn’t a coward who missed his only chance to do something right. For himself.

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he opened his mouth and looked at Yuri’s striking profile.

“Would you be my friend?”


End file.
